


Tubthumping

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hermione reads classic scandalous book, Ron appreciates it too, new washing machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the morning after Percy and Audrey's wedding and the Burrow is sound asleep. Hermione offered to assist with chores for Molly, including testing out her new (to her) washing machine, which is older than Molly is. Antics ensue with a scandalous book from the 1920s and Ron appreciating his wife's form sitting on the washer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tubthumping

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt I received on Tumblr. It's **Rated M for smut and antics and discussing a banned book.** Hope the readers can decipher the book in question. - _DG_

Hermione crept downstairs from the attic bedroom, leaving Ron asleep. They’d stayed the night after Percy and Audrey’s wedding. Hermione didn’t mind staying overnight now, even if the house was crowded. Once they paid for a double bed for Ron’s old room and purchased nicer sheets for it, staying in his room wasn’t so bad, even if it was crowded. The other furniture had been moved to another room, leaving only a stand-alone wardrobe in there.

Thankfully, Bill and Fleur were down the next landing. The girls had the room across the hallway. George refused to stay the night, considering he wasn’t engaged to Angelina yet, even if the brothers took the mickey from him often. Fortunately, Angelina was in good spirits about it, saying “We’ll get there someday.” 

Charlie was in the room on the floor below, snoring so loud that Hermione silenced his room as to not wake Molly and Arthur. She was still adjusting to her new normal, and the nights she slept were good ones. 

Percy and Audrey left the night before, departing as husband and wife. No one knew their destination, not even with George’s attempts to bribe an official in the Portkey office to find out their location. No one would share with him, or anyone else, where they had departed to. 

She knew, since she helped Percy come up with it. He’d originally picked a tour of the continent, but Hermione said that was a rubbish idea. Instead, they were going abroad, to Hong Kong and Macau. They were going to visit Audrey’s grand-mother and extended family. She hadn’t been to see them in years, so Percy said. 

Audrey packed her Weasley jumper for the trip, too. 

They celebrated, danced and drank, laughed and made tons of jokes. Plenty of hugs, hits to his arm and plenty of kisses were shared before their Portkey departed at half eight from the orchard. 

Charlie helped drag Ron upstairs, pissed from plenty of Firewhiskey with Charlie and George. 

But it was now half five and she had plenty to do before they would leave after brunch. She’d promised Molly to help with the laundry this morning. She was going to make sure Mum’s surprise present from her kids was working perfectly before Molly would use it. 

She descended the stairs of the Weasley residence and skipped all of the noisy steps. She didn’t want to wake the matriarch yet even if she was probably already up toddling in the kitchen with breakfast preparations. 

She made the last few steps and saw that the kitchen was blissfully empty. The tea kettle was on the stove ready for heating, along with a tin of Irish Breakfast that Arthur preferred. 

She set the kettle on and looked in the scullery. She waited for the water to boil before taking it off the cooktop. She hunted up a cup and the leaves for making her tea. This particular blend of Irish Breakfast didn’t need milk for her palate. It was just right, somehow. 

She took a blissful sip before opening the door to the scullery. There, in the dark room off of the kitchen was her present: a new washing machine. Well, it was new to her and the house. It looked nothing like the one her Mum used at home. It appeared older than everyone else in the house. 

It was a relic, at best. She’d only seen a washer like that in old magazines and charity shops. 

“I bet that’s where he got it.” Like much of the house, it was scoured from charity shops and other Muggle time saving technology from decades gone past. But this was a family treat for Molly, at least according to George. 

Her kids begged her to part with her washboard and tub for dying the wool for their annual Christmas jumpers. She continued on, even when she was busy making even more jumpers now, because of the grandkids. She said it worked fine, even if she had to patch jumper elbows, for losing track of time. 

George found one in a charity shop out on his travels and mentioned it to Ron. Of course he loved the idea, getting Mum a real washing machine. But how could they make it work at home for Mum? 

They sold the idea to Dad and Percy paid a pittance for it. Ron brought it home to Dad and he put it in his work shed. He tinkered and dithered and did so many charms but, six months after Mum’s birthday, they presented it to her, on Percy’s wedding Day. 

Mum kissed Percy on the cheek for his present to her and Audrey did too. 

The morning after the wedding left so many loads of laundry to assist with. Hermione promised to help since Ginny was off in Ireland preparing for the match today, and Harry was on duty. Ron’s trousers and pants were included in one of the stacks of laundry and in need of washing, too. 

She looked at the contraption and saw what needed to be done. Unlike the one her mum used, with a few buttons that had so many options, this looked as straightforward as she could manage. There was the tub with a lid on it. There was the agitator in the middle that ran on a belt. And then there was the wringer attachment on the side at the top, where you wrung out the excess water to hang dry on a laundry line or via sticking charms in the scullery. 

According to Arthur, all it needed was a wandtap to turn it on and it’d run until you took the laundry out. The only thing Hermione would have to do was watch it so it wouldn’t wash the linens until they were bare threads. 

The piles of linen were stacked by the new washer and she threw a few things into the tub. She added some washing powder and tapped the switch. Sure enough, it started running. 

Noises were rattling outside her door but she wasn’t quite ready to cope with anyone else except the book in her hands and the tea in her cup. She silenced the door and enjoyed the racket the washer was making. Each thud of the sheets into the side of the tub was surprisingly rhythmic, and somewhat soothing. 

There was nowhere else to sit in the scullery except on top of the washing machine. 

She picked up the book that Ginny gave her yesterday. She’d picked it up in Cole’s Bookshop in Bicester last week and told her later that the book was rubbish. She glanced at the cover and immediately recognized the Author and the actual quality of work this was supposed to be. 

She’d picked it up years ago but that was during Christmas Hols of 1996 and she was on the outs with Ron. Her Mum saw her regarding the book and told her that “you aren’t quite ready for that work, yet.” 

Well, she was 22 now and married to her lover for almost a year. “Sorry, Mum, but I’m going to read it.” 

She sat on the top of the tub, with the lid closed, and started reading. 

Her wand rattled what seemed like immediately, after she was 40 pages into the book. She stopped and wrung out the first load of linens, using magic to hang them outside the window. The next batch went in with more washing powder and a tap of her wand. She picked up where she left off and kept reading the torrid affair between the Constance and Mellors. 

“That must be a good book,” a half-asleep voice beckoned her from the doorway. 

“Ron!” she gasped. She hastily shoved the book behind her back. 

“No, really. I’ve been standing here five minutes watching your arse move on top of Mum’s new washer and you completely ignored me standing here.” 

She blushed, hard, contemplating what she’d just read. The blush flowed down her cheeks to her chin, neck, and chest. She just couldn’t hide her reaction. 

“Blimey, what are you reading?” 

Hermione pulled the book from behind her back for Ron to see, waiting on him to laugh at her. “Bloody hell! You’re reading a porno book. Does it have pictures?” 

“Of course not, silly. I don’t need pictures to appreciate the story being told.” 

He leaned against the doorjamb and looked at his wife. “So it’s not a porno?” 

“Ron, it’s a love story that _just_ happens to have sex in it.” Ron stepped to her and took the book from her hands. “So it’s a porn book.” 

She yanked the book back from his grasp and nearly fell off the top of the charmed washing machine. 

“Hey, I got you,” He caught her before she fell completely off the washer. 

“I’m perfectly capable of not falling, Ron.” She huffed at him. “And I don’t appreciate it that you say I’m only reading this because it has sex in it.” 

“I didn’t say that,” he rolled his eyes in a decent mimicry of his wife. “So tell me about it.” 

Hermione leaned back against the agitating washer and took a moment to compose her thoughts. “Well, it’s about a woman, married to a man and he goes off to fight in World War I.” 

“Okay. Sounds kinda boring really, especially since I’ve seen you fight and most men are no contest with you.” 

Hermione blushed but continued on. “And he’s injured in the fighting and unable to have relations with his wife. He changes his pursuits, and starts writing.” 

“I still say it sounds rather boring as hell, really.” 

Hermione smirked. “That’s what your sister said. Anyway, she starts having affairs, without his complaint since he can’t make love to her physically.” 

“Oh that’s rubbish. Doesn’t he know there are other things he can do to keep her happy?” 

Hermione turned bright red at his suggestion. “Yeah, I know, but the book was written decades before, love.” 

“Still sounds boring and barmy, which is right up your alley.” 

“Well, the book was scandalous when it was first published.” 

“Really? That boring dodgy book was scandalous. That’s barmy.” 

Hermione laughed, the one she reserved for Ron and only Ron. “The scandal was that it was declared an obscenity and having no moral redeeming value. See, there’s a scene in here.” 

“And I’m sure you read it already,” He cheeked. 

“I’m getting to it,” she smirked, “and in the scene, she’s making love to the gameskeeper.” 

“Oh that’s a frightening thought!” 

“He’s a regular man, below her social station, and she’s making love to him on the ground in the forest on her husband’s property.” 

“So she’s having an affair, because her husband can’t get it up? Is that what made it scandalous?” 

“No, silly. The scandal was that the author wrote a scene in there where they protagonist, Connie, and the gameskeeper have a simultaneous orgasm.” 

“That’s the scandal? Really?” Ron kissed his wife on the nose. “Guess our lovemaking is constantly scandalous.” 

Hermione smiled at her husband. “Well, she went barmy, thinking she had a deep connection to the gameskeeper from that experience.” 

“Oh, I bet she did alright! First time I got you off you saw stars.” 

“Ron!” She blushed harder. “But it was that plus she’d gotten pregnant but the gameskeeper’s wife was having none of it. The husband wouldn’t grant her a divorce and they were stuck in limbo.” 

Ron stepped right up to Hermione and saw the amusement on her face. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, if I got hurt?” 

Hermione shook her head frantically. “There’s no one else for me, Ron. You, just you, and no one else. “

“I’m so glad you said that,” he muttered before pressing his lips into hers. “’cause I couldn’t stand the thought of another man with his hands on you.” He nipped at her neck, feeling her squirm under his fingertips. “I’d go absolutely barmy if I couldn’t make love to you.” He pulled back and saw her bright brown eyes looking at him sincerely. “I mean that. If I’m breathing, I’m going to show you how much I love you.” 

She pulled him between her spread knees and kissed him hard. She begged entrance with her tongue and felt his lips parting for her. Her tongue swept his mouth and he thrust his into hers, pushing and pulling one another with joy through pleasure. He continued to kiss her face, dropping kisses all over her lips, neck, ears and at the crux of her shoulder. 

“More,” she begged him. 

Ron pulled back slightly and saw her swollen lips and blush that colored her entire face, neck, and chest. “You want more, huh?” He dropped to his knees and worked to remove her sleep shorts from her legs. 

“Stop, I need to turn the washer off. Your pants are in there, along with the linens.” 

She pulled her wand out of the pocket of her shorts, tapping the switch on the back. She then pointed her wand at her stomach, performing the contraception charm. She saw her belly turn a bright shade of blue before she smiled at her husband. “Proceed,” she whispered before locking and silencing the scullery. 

Ron grinned and worked off her shorts, leaving her in a pair of bright orange knickers. “You wore the knickers,” he grinned further. “You know I love you in Orange.” 

She sat up taller and removed her vest, leaving her in a matching orange bra. “I wasn’t going to walk around the house at half five in only my skin.” 

He stood back up and helped her down from the washer. “Turn around, love.” 

It made no sense to her but she did as he asked. He pressed her into the side of the washer, grinding his erection into her back. “First you tease me with you sitting on Mum’s washer.” His hands slid down her sides and worked inside the lace on her hips. “But then you tell me that you’re reading porn.” 

“It’s not porn, Ron. The book is great literature,” she complained before catching her breath. 

He’d worked a finger down the front of her knickers and was gently teasing her. “But then you tell me that you’d read it including the part about coming together.” He used his other hand to push down her knickers. She helped by working her legs out of them, thrusting against his fingers that had parted her flesh. 

“And then you’re blushing madly because I caught you reading it. You sitting on the running washing machine was hot enough,” he continued to finger her while using his other hand to unfasten the clasp on her brassiere. “But now it’s also the issue of possibly being caught out, shagged by your adoring husband, in his parent’s house, that has you begging me for more.” 

“Dear God yes, please!” she begged further. 

Ron lifted her up a few inches, leaving her half-hanging off the side of the washer. “Ready?” 

She nodded again. “Hurry up, damn it!” 

Ron tapped the switch again and turned the washing machine on. “Hold on,” he whispered over her back. 

She reached out to the other side, under the wringer attachment on top, and felt him delving her entrance with his fingers, first. They left and she moaned when she felt his tongue driving her wild. “Oh yes, please,” she begged further. 

He shifted her leg onto the washer and dove into her waiting flesh, feasting on her like a welcoming meal at home. He had her groaning in bliss immediately, using his fingers and tongue on her that she appreciated. 

She felt the band tightening in her belly and lifted her hips up higher. His tongue followed, licking her bundle of nerves. “Bloody hell,” she started talking, “oh shite damn, please, more.” The litany continued until the band snapped, groaning his name. 

The pressure on her clit disappeared before he thrust into her sensitized flesh. OhshiteRonfuck! she screamed as he waited on her to acknowledge him. She did, whispering his name, and he pounded into her like a man bereft of his wife for years, not hours. She screamed again when his fingers found her nub and rubbed her in time. 

“Come for me, Hermione. I want Luna to hear you,” he beckoned. 

She did again, clamping down on him. “Ron,” she whined and then yelled once again. 

He was losing his rhythm since the band in his bollocks was painfully tight. “I know you have one more in you.” 

“Pass out if I do,” she begged. 

He thrust hard, finding that one spot deep inside that made her a puddle of goo. He ground hard into her arse, squeezing her nub again. 

“Oh fuck!” She screamed and clamped down on him. The band broke and he bellowed with her. “Oh shite, oh shite, oh shite,” she panted. “Oh fuck,” she added. 

Ron found his wand and tapped the washer again, turning off the agitator inside the closed tub. 

“I dunno about you, but that was bloody hot.” 

“Yeah, it was,” she slid off the washer and into his waiting lap. “I dunno about you, but I’m tired for some reason.” 

“I can’t imagine why ‘cept that I give you great orgasms.” 

“Now do you understand why that book was scandalous? Imagine writing that, about simultaneous orgasm, when in that time, it wasn’t talked about at all.” Ron smirked at his boneless wife in his lap. “Yeah, I get it, now. It’d be like my parents talking about sex: really strange and creepy with us kids.” 

Hermione stood up from his lap and opened the lid on the washer. “Oh, good. The towels are washed and so are your pants.” 

“You threw my pants in mum’s washer?” 

“Of course I did. There were wine stains all down the front of your pants and trousers. I couldn’t let it just sit there and get ruined.” 

Ron grinned. “I couldn’t help it that Teddy ran into me at the wedding and spilled wine all over my shirt and trousers and bled through to my pants.” 

“I know, and that’s why I came down here early this morning to see that they were cleaner.” 

“I thought you came down here to read that porny book my sister got you.” 

Hermione snorted and looked for her knickers and sleep shorts. She found them and slid them back on. “I’d have read that book at home in bed if we were there last night. But since you were inebriated on Firewhiskey and I’d had too many glasses of wine myself, it was unwise to apparate home, much less use the Floo.” 

She found her vest and bra and slid them back on. “You might want your pants and trousers back on since I’m planning on opening that door in a minute.” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” Ron found where he’d shed out of his clothing and slipped them back on. 

“Hermione?” 

She turned and he pressed her into the wall away from the washer. “I love you. And I was serious. No man will touch you the way I do, if I have anything to say about it. Not like you’re mine, ‘cause you could kick me out or something,” He kissed her on the forehead. “but how can we explain the noise in here this morning?” 

She smirked. “Well, we could always say we were testing it by tubthumping it.” 

“Brilliant.” Ron pointed his wand at the door and heard noises immediately. “Oh shite, it sounds like breakfast has already started.” 

“It has, Ron Weasley. Now come on out of there and tuck in.” 

Ron opened the door and seven sets of eyes looked at him when he opened the door. “Damn it, not again,” Charlie groaned. “Next time, you git, silence the entire room.” 

“Charlie! Watch your language!” Mum barked at her son. Bill cuffed him on the shoulder. 

Ron stepped out first, blushing in epic proportions. Hermione came out next and refused to look at anyone. “We were testing out Mum’s new washing machine. It works.” 

“It obviously worked. We knew that Friday.” 

“Oh.” Ron saw Fleur stifling her laughter. Even Dad had a grin on his face. 

“I guess we didn’t have to test out the tubthumper, huh?”

The table erupted in raucous laughter.


End file.
